Hals's Childhood

When Hals opened his eyes and woke from his coma, the first thing he saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. His head still hurt a little. He had spent too long in the Judgment Space, putting some strain on his soul.

Hals pushed himself up with both hands and leaned against the headboard, sitting there listlessly. Every so often, his head still throbbed. He could only clutch it tightly with his right hand to ease the pain. After a long while, it finally began to subside.

Only then did Hals notice that he wasn't wearing the robe he always wore, but a loose set of pajamas.

"Did my master help me change...?" Hals murmured to himself. He raised a hand to touch his scarred face and the brand on his neck. "If so, then she saw everything..."

Hals was a little dazed. He didn't know whether Bibi Dong would find his face unpleasant and look down on him. The thought filled him with panic, but he forced himself to take deep breaths, doing his best to calm down.

Hals felt his way to his feet and noticed that Bibi Dong had folded his robe neatly and placed it on a nearby chair. He walked over and picked it up with both hands. After hesitating for a long time, he put it on anyway. For all these years, he had worn the robe without ever taking it off to conceal his appearance. Now that Bibi Dong had seen him, he didn't know whether he should put it on again and keep living while hiding his true self.

At last, Hals silently put on the robe and returned to his old appearance.

When he opened the door, Hals realized that the room where he had rested was only a small inner room. Bibi Dong sat at the dining table with her chin propped up in both hands, looking utterly bored. He had no idea what she was thinking.

Hearing Hals open the door, Bibi Dong turned around to look at him. They faced each other in silence.

In the end, Hals was the first to speak, his voice hoarse and weak.

"Thank you, master. I'm sorry for the trouble of bringing me back. I've caused you trouble. Please punish me, master." Hals bowed his head deeply.

Looking at the still respectful Hals before her, Bibi Dong felt conflicted. To be precise, it was the first time she had seen him go berserk like that. The last time, she had been unconscious. It was also the first time she had seen his face beneath the robe, and it felt as though she had gotten to know him all over again. Yet her heart was still full of questions.

Bibi Dong nodded, then turned toward the table and poured tea into the two cups there. She picked up the cup in front of her but didn't drink, only turning it over in her hand.

With her back to Hals, Bibi Dong said gently, "Hals, come sit down. I want to talk with you."

Hals hesitated briefly, then walked over and sat across from Bibi Dong, keeping his head lowered and avoiding her gaze.

"Hals."

"Yes, master."

"Can you tell me about your past?" Bibi Dong looked up at Hals's face, hidden beneath his hood and impossible to see clearly, but the image of his face, covered in sharply defined scars, came unbidden to mind.

Hals didn't answer. He seemed hesitant.

Seeing his hesitation, Bibi Dong quickly said, "Don't worry. I just want to understand you better. We'll be together for a long time, after all, and you're my servant too. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to tell me. It's all right."

At that, Hals took a deep breath and said, "No. If you want to hear it, then it's all right, master. It's just that those memories are hard to look back on."

"I was a war orphan. I was taken in by a group that called itself a circus but was actually a human-trafficking ring. That was where I met the old man who changed my life..."

Five-year-old Hals was the most handsome child in the circus, and also its most expensive "merchandise." At first, when he saw the friends he spent his days with being led away one by one by the circus owner and handed over to strangers, he felt a little envious. He had innocently asked the man about it, and the man had smiled and told him those people were adopting them, and that they would start new lives with their new families.

Until one day...

After finishing his acrobatics act, Hals waved goodbye with a smile as the audience cheered. As soon as he returned backstage, he spotted the circus ringmaster waiting for him, his plump, greasy face beaming.

"Come here, my dear Little Hals. Come meet your family. I chose them just for you."

"Really, Ringmaster? Someone really wants to adopt me?" Little Hals's face lit up with excitement and delight.

"Of course, of course. No more questions. Come with me." The Ringmaster did his best to hide the trace of impatience in his eyes.

The Ringmaster led Hals to a side room, where he met the old man.

What kind of person was he?

Gaunt and tall, with a sinister air and a pale face. Hals's first impression of him was a bad one, but he still plucked up the courage to walk over and ask, "Grandpa, are you here to adopt me?" Little Hals's face was full of hope for the wonderful future ahead, but he had no idea what awaited him.

"Adopt you?" The old man gave a strange laugh, a "keh-keh" sound rising from his throat. He reached out a hand as thin as a chicken's claw and stroked Little Hals's handsome face. His sharp nails pricked him, making him uncomfortable.

As if noticing Little Hals's discomfort, the old man withdrew his hand and turned to leave. "Come with me. I'll take you to your new home."

"Ah... oh." Little Hals nodded blankly and hurried after him.

Little Hals stared in a daze at the modest house before him, complete with a small courtyard.

"Is this your home?"

"Ah, no. It's just a place I stay from time to time." The old man didn't wait for Little Hals. He opened the door and walked inside on his own.

It was already late. The old man went out and bought some food, then shared a sumptuous dinner with Little Hals. It was the best meal Hals would have for years—and the most normal one.

After dinner, the old man seemed strangely excited. He rubbed his hands together and looked at Little Hals with burning eyes.

"Come on, Little Hals. Let's go see the room where you'll be staying."

It was a small side room in the courtyard. As they approached the doorway, Little Hals suddenly caught a faint smell of blood in the air.

He hesitated. "Grandpa, why does it smell like blood?"

"Oh?" The old man seemed pleased. "You can smell it? What a fine talent. What a pity. Go on in."

As he spoke, he pressed a hand against Little Hals's shoulder and shoved him into the room, leaving no room for argument.

The sight inside terrified Little Hals.

There was a wooden chair covered in blood, a cross fitted with shackles, several whips soaking in alcohol, and a basin holding a branding iron.

Little Hals sensed something was wrong. Panic-stricken, he spun around and tried to run, only to collide with the old man, who was already standing behind him. The old man seized his shoulder with his withered hand and squeezed until it hurt.

The old man hurled Little Hals onto the wooden chair and locked the shackles around him.

A sinister smile spread across his pale face.

A Soul Ring appeared behind him, and several small knives materialized in his hand.

The old man licked his cracked lips. The knives slowly turned red as he approached the chair. He looked at Little Hals's handsome face, still beautiful despite his terror, and frowned, disgust plain between his brows.

"Your face is far too ugly. Let me make it a little prettier."

As the glowing-hot knife drew closer to his face, Little Hals stared wide-eyed in terror. "No! Don't! Ahhh!"

"Zzzt."

That was the sound of a hot knife cutting into flesh.

Hals had no idea how he had survived that year. Every day brought the same tortures: knives, branding irons, whippings, bones broken and left to heal, only for it all to begin again. For some reason, Hals healed incredibly quickly. Wounds that took ordinary people a long time to recover from usually healed in just a few days for him. But Hals would rather not have had that ability.

At first, Hals would beg the old man through his tears to spare him. Later, he could only pray in anguish that the old man would finish that day's "task" sooner. By then, Hals had already grown numb to this "affection." It still hurt terribly, but his body was too exhausted to react.

"Creak."

The door opened, but Hals was too tired to look at the old man coming in.

Today, though, the old man didn't start right away. He only looked at Hals with a complicated expression. Hals raised his weary head and looked at him.

The old man spoke in a flat tone. "What a pity. I've been ordered to go back and carry out a mission, so I can't stay here with you anymore. Such a pity. A perfect 'son' like you is hard to come by. How about this? Let me give you one last transformation."

"Ahhh..."

The old man had been gone for two days, and Hals hadn't eaten for two days either. The old man had left the key beside Hals's hand, but he had broken Hals's arm. Hals would have to wait until he healed before he could unlock the shackles and escape, but he didn't know if he could last that long.

At last, he had escaped. Weak and unsteady, Hals braced himself against the wall as he staggered away from the house where he had lived for over a year.

Hals had lost all joy and hope in living. He didn't know how he was supposed to live, or why.

At last, the frail Hals could hold on no longer. He wore nothing but a thin garment stained with blood, and the snow outside was falling heavily.

Using the last of his strength, Hals crawled into a cave. Through the haze, he saw a stern-looking man leading a group of people into it.

The man seemed quite interested in Hals, who was covered in blood and whose body was marred with strange scars. He opened his mouth and said something.

Hals was too weak to hear him clearly; his ears were ringing. He only vaguely heard the man ask if he wanted to go with him, promising to provide food and shelter. Hals collapsed helplessly to the ground and nodded. Then his head drooped, and he passed out.

That man was none other than Qian Xunji, the current pope of Spirit Hall.

After entering Spirit Hall, awakening his martial soul, and beginning his cultivation, Hals continued to drift through life in a daze. He felt no gratitude toward that man. In Qian Xunji's eyes, all Hals could see was the desire to use him. If it came to it, Qian Xunji could abandon him without hesitation.

But one day, Hals saw a little girl in a side hall of Spirit Hall.

By then, Hals had hidden his entire body beneath his robe.

The little girl was very young, but she radiated warmth and cheer. When Hals saw her, she was smiling happily as she held and munched on a few chicken cutlets. Her round cheeks, still a little chubby with baby fat, were smeared with grease, but she was still adorable.

The little girl seemed to sense someone watching her. She turned around and spotted the figure hidden inside a robe.

Though Hals was already over 1.7 meters tall, he suddenly felt nervous. He hurriedly ducked behind a pillar, afraid he might frighten her.

The little girl curiously studied this strange person. She bit her finger, tilted her head as she thought, then held out the chicken cutlet in her hand and asked, "Um, do you want a chicken cutlet? I only have a few, but if you really want one, you can have it."

The little girl's sweet voice broke open a tiny crack in Hals's frozen heart, letting the sunlight in.

That little girl was Bibi Dong when she was young.

From then on, Hals suddenly found a reason to live and hope for the future. He began training harder, pushing himself to the limit. Fortunately, he had great talent. His talent and hard work made him the strongest of that generation's Spirit Hall Golden Generation, even rivaling some of the elders.

At last, after becoming a candidate for the position of elder and making a major contribution, he asked the pope to let him become the servant of Bibi Dong, who had by then become a candidate for Holy Maiden.

Qian Xunji agreed. From that moment on, Hals officially became Bibi Dong's servant and began his new life.